Baby, I’m sorry. (I’m not sorry)

Baby, fineness is the way to kill
Tell me how it feel, bet it’s such a bitter pill
And yeah, I know you thought you had bigger, better things
Bet right now this stings (wait a minute)
‘Cause the grass is greener under me
Bright as technicolor, I can tell that you can see
And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this
But it gets worse (wait a minute)